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Easter eggs, crime sprees, and personal delivery

Last Saturday’s Western Morning News had a story about a “£300,000 rural crime spree” in which six men stole four-wheel-drives, tractors, trailers, boats, farm equipment, and–this reads like it wandered in from a different story but I swear it didn’t–chocolate Easter eggs. Thousands of pounds worth of chocolate Easter eggs. I’d give you a link but I can’t find the story online. I read it in the print edition. It was on–do you remember paper? It was on paper. So you’ll just have to trust me on this.

Or not. If you think I made it up, no harm done. I’ll get credit for a bizarre imagination.

Screamingly irrelevant photo. J. with Moose. Or the other way around. I’ll stop with the cat and dog photos eventually, but everything else I’ve shot lately is overexposed. Besides, who can resist this one?

How much space does it take to store thousands of pounds worth of Easter eggs? Well, that depends on how much the Easter eggs cost, which (if you were buying instead of stealing them) is another way of saying it depends on your income, or at least outgo. It might take less space than you’d think. Hotel Chocolat sells one for £75, but at Fortnum and Mason, you can drop £90 for a chocolate Easter egg or £250 for a “chocolate beehive sculpture” (sorry–I can’t take that seriously enough to leave it outside of quotation marks; I don’t want the blame for that description). And for that amount, I’ll throw in more quotation marks: It’s made from “majestic” Valrhona chocolate. Whatever the hell Valrhona chocolate is, the price went up by £50 pounds when they glued that adjective to it.

I worked in a candy factory for long enough to lost my taste for the stuff, and although I wouldn’t say they used particularly good chocolate and I wouldn’t hold it up as setting the world standard for chocolates–well, what I’m trying to say is that I’ve never seen majestic chocolate.

Fortnum and Mason can’t send the beehive, by the way. Maybe at £250 you’re not paying enough for that or maybe it’s just too valuable to ship. Either way,you’ll have to pick it up at the store.

Or you can spend your £250 at Betty’s of Harrogate and get Betty’s “Imperial Easter Egg.” Betty delivers. “Personally.” That goes in quotes too. I assume that’s personally to you, not personally by Betty. In fact, I don’t even know that there is a Betty, or that there ever was. And while we’re talking about things I don’t know, I don’t know how much she charges to deliver, because you have to call to find out–the information isn’t online–but if you’re spending £250 for a chunk of decorated chocolate, why quibble about delivery costs?

Okay, let’s get back to that personal delivery. Have you ever had anything sent to you that wasn’t delivered personally? I’m guessing the personally, in this context, means by a person (as opposed to a drone) and to a person. Even if the package is left in the garage, or with a neighbor, it’s still to you, personally. Or, if they insist on it going directly into your anxious little paws, all it means is that you’re stuck waiting around for it.

Who writes this stuff? I once saw a real estate brochure for an apartment building that said it had an indoor elevator. That’s as opposed, presumably, to a trebuchet, which is a £250 word for the kind of catapult used in medieval sieges–an outdoor arrangement that delivers you memorably to granny’s fourth floor apartment if her place doesn’t have an indoor elevator. After you arrive splat in her living room, her place won’t have glass in the window either, blurring the line between indoor and outdoor.

I’ve wandered, haven’t I? We were talking about the Easter eggs.Betty’s is 5.4 kilos of chocolate, milk or dark, If you think in pounds rather than kilos, you can either multiply that by 2.2 or simply accept that it’s a shitload of chocolate. You can also multiply, divide, and go into shock over how much you’re spending per pound. Or ounce.

From Betty’s site I went to Cadbury’s, which asked how much I wanted to spend. The answer was, Oh, lots! and I clicked on the most expensive category, which was “over £50.” That’s me,the reckless spender, but the best they could do for me was offer hampers–enough stuff thrown together to take the price up to an even £50. Given where I’d just come from, I wasn’t impressed. So I checked out Lidl’s, the discount supermarket, where I could buy a bag of chocolate (I think) mini-eggs for £1.29, and they’ll ring them up at the cash register for me personally. After that, I can personally carry it out to my car, munching as I go. Except that I used to work in that candy factory and I’m immune to the lure of anything but good (although not majestic), very plain dark chocolate.

So–returning to the actual story I was telling, and you may have forgotten that there was one but I haven’t–it’s not clear how much storage space the stolen Easter eggs needed. Especially since the Westy didn’t say how many thousands of pounds of Easter eggs it was talking about. The Westy‘s like that. It tells you what it tells you, which is often that the neighbors were shocked and horrified, and leaves out what it leaves out, which can be a great deal. But it does spell neighbors with a U. Always.

Before I leave the topic entirely, I need to credit the members of my writers group, who pointed me in the direction of the Betty’s of Harrogate egg. They’re wonderful, and every bit as strange as I am.

If you celebrate Easter, have a good Easter. And if you don’t–well, neither do I. Whatever you believe, don’t steal any Easter eggs, okay? At the end of it all, you just eat them (it’s too late in the season to sell them) and eating a £250 egg–well, what does that leave you with?

I can only guess that once you have enough money where you can think about spending (no Pound symbol here) over $400 on an egg, the money no longer matters. Still, what’s the point? Chocolate can only be so good. My wife uses very expensive chocolate for baking, but it’s only very expensive compared to a Hershey Bar. It’s not expensive at all compared to a cross-country flight. I’m still curious about how they managed to steal all the other items and where they might be storing those.

Good question. It can’t be easy to store. What I wonder about it how people stealing (and storing) heavy equipment got into Easter eggs. It just doesn’t seem like the same mentality, does it?

Your comment about expensive chocolate reminds me that I complain about the cost of chocolate chips in this country, but like your wife’s baking chocolate, it’s only expensive in relation to–well, chocolate.

Speechless…just like all the previous 20 *likers*. I’ll just bet they are all saying ’bout now “Oh, I knew I should have done but didn’t and now…oh I don’t know you think it’s too late? Right you are. Too late.” So there you have it a speech less a speech but a like all the same….like a good neighbour always with a U. Always. Say goodnight, Gracie, and go put the kettle on…..

Despite my rather sedate blog (well, everyone’s gotta have a hobby), I’m every bit as strange as you are, too. I looked at your photo and thought “Does she have to shop for a D or a G cup for Moose to be comfortable, or does the the critter* just wing it… or whaterver small critters do…?”
And of course the thieves stole all that (or not all that) chocolate, I mean, it must be high-calorie-burning work stealing not just 4-wheel-drives but all those damn tractors, too. Or maybe they were intending to reunite those eggs with £250 worth of chocolate chickens.
*I’m catching the language, trouble is, from whom?

Another delightful post! :)
I think my favorite part was this bellman in my head who asked a group of unsuspecting tourists, “Elevator? or trebuchet?” Heh.
I celebrate pagan heathen fertility stuff over here. Eggs and bunnies and chocolate, all good for me. Happy weekend to you and yours — I hope you get some fine dark chocolate!

I do so enjoy your obscure and eccentric snippets of back in Blighty happenings and your stream of consciousness relating of the tale. I just had to click on the links to see what could possibly justify eggs costing 250 (I can’t find the pound symbol – panic!) and was underwhelmed. There was a great deal of artistry, I must admit, but I would want something non-perishable for that price. I wonder if they actually sell any of those eggs or if the ridiculousness of them is some sort of promotional tool, like bonkers headline clickbait. As an atheist, we don’t do Easter. Maybe somewhat hypocritically, we do mark secular Christmas but we don’t do Easter. Now I can tell myself I save 250 (still can’t find it) each year.

Isn’t it funny where we draw the line on what we will and won’t celebrate, what we will and won’t eat–all those things? I’ll sing some religious songs but absolutely can’t sing others. And I never know where I’ll draw the line.

Yes, it’s true. I think regarding Christian festivals, Mr Pict and I have chosen to pass on the traditions from the holiday we were attached to (Christmas) and have abandoned the one we didn’t really engage with on any level (Easter). Quite arbitrary and no philosophical thought behind it.

I could have written this, Laura! Did the same lookie-loo at those sites and couldn’t quite believe Valrhona chocolate was French. Aren’t the Swiss supposed to beat everyone at the chocolate game? Or those exotic South Americans and their cacao super-beans? But maybe they only charge a few Peruvian sol for a bag of beans, so where’s the Majesty in that?

I’m a fan of Belgian chocolate. The creamy luxury of that chocolate is perfection for me but Swiss is a close runner up. I like to cook with South American chocolate but it’s a bit bitter for my palate that’s grown up on sweet British chocolate.

I expect that’s why I like it. Raised on super sweet British chocolate, I find I need some sweetness. I also like a smooth and creamy texture. It’s the waxy texture of American chocolate that I find unappealing. I’m not going to make pronouncements on which chocolate is better than the other. It’s just my personal taste.

I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. Unless, of course, you want to dedicate your life to studying comparative chocolates. There are worse ways to waste a life, but I’m almost sure there are better ones.

Now I can throw the word trebuchet around and impress someone, probably the cat. There are, however, outside elevators. I rode a glass elevator up the side of a fancy building in San Francisco and almost threw up because I’m afraid of heights. I periodically forget this if a novel opportunity presents itself. I worked in my aunt’s fudge shop one summer. I gained 12 lbs. and many zits. I can barely look at fudge. Don’t forget about Easter hats. You have some divinely absurd hats. I know this because I have pictures of you wearing them. If you still have one, why don’t you pop it on and take the dog for an Easter walk. Picture please.

I don’t think we’ve got anything particularly good in the way of hats anymore. Well, having said that–. Hmmm. I have some truly awful ones, but I wear them quite seriously because they have brims and I’m in who-cares-what-I-look-like, protect-the-eyes mode these days. But those are–. Well. Yeah. They’d look great on the dog if he’ll hold still. Stay tuned.

I don’t think I ever had their pancakes. Besides, at this point I’d have to cut a mouth hole in my turtleneck. I’m not in love with the box mix ones anymore. I used to love them, then I learned to make my own and turned into a pancake snob.

Very sad tale of an old lefty led astray by a simple-looking pancake recipe.

Love this post, love the humour here. I too am wondering why would someone steal chocolate, and I too am wondering if they stole a lot of it in terms of weight or if the chocolate was just plain expensive. That beehive chocolate looks amazing, but no thank you. Not because of the price, but because I feel that I can spend my money better elsewhere. And that thing won’t last forever. Or maybe they stole the chocolate because they were chocoholics.

Delivered personally in my books would mean the person making the product or giving me the git coming right up to my face and handing it to me. Postmen and all those delivery guys are just middlemen to me.

Since as far as I know there is no Betty at Betty’s, your definition pretty much rules out personal delivery. It can only be delivered by a non-Betty. For a whale of a lot of money. I just can’t see the point of investing in something you’re going to eat.

Chocolate must be the new heroin, especially at those prices. And, if you gotta have your cocoa fix, nothing’s going to stop you from getting it…not price, not availability, and certainly not staying within the confines of the law.

And I will have visions of visitors sailing through my 3rd floor windows (as opposed to Granny’s 4th floor up) from the trebuchet all day – thanks for the giggle :D

If you want a real ‘steal’ the chocolate beehive sculpture is now half-off. Only $125.00 pounds. (I very deliberately didn’t check to see how much that would be in American currency. Most likely it would break the chocolate piggy bank.

Y’know, the oddest thing about this conversation is how perfectly sensible it seems to compare the existential pain caused by an overpriced Easter egg (Kirizar just pointed out that one of them is on sale now for only £125) and a trebuchet.